


Bellamy Blake's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse

by Shen_Gong_Oops



Series: chopped fics [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Bellamy is a magkukulam, Chopped: the 100 Challenge, F/M, Modernized Canon, Sex Pollen, Third Round, Zombie Apocalypse, zombies are a combination of science and voodoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-17 20:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shen_Gong_Oops/pseuds/Shen_Gong_Oops
Summary: He wasn't saying Becca Franco started the zombie apocalypse, but Becca Franco started the zombie apocalypse.Or the one where Bellamy tries to keep himself and six other people alive during a zombie outbreak. And grumbles about magic.For the third round of the Chopped: 100 Fanfiction Challenge
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: chopped fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537135
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59
Collections: Chopped 2.0 Round 3





	Bellamy Blake's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> Btw I'm blending Haitian voodoo with modern day conceptions of zombies because creative license. Not everything will be accurate. This will probably be the weirdest fic you'll read in this challenge. Kulam is a form of folk magic from the Philippines. Typically they perform hexes and curses but they also do love potions and voodoo. I’ve seen some accountants talking about how some magkukulams can even raise/control the dead. So here's the zombie apocalypse.
> 
> This is insane, thank you all so much for enjoying my story. I reread the posts a million times waiting for the sike.
> 
> 1st Place: Best Combined Use of the Four Tropes + Theme  
3rd Place: Best Smut  
3rd Place: Best Modernized Canon  
1st Place: Magic AU  
1st Place: Secret Places  
1st place: Best Halloween trope

He wasn't saying Becca Franco started the zombie apocalypse, but Becca Franco started the zombie apocalypse.

The day she brought ALIE, an all-knowing sentient AI, to life Becca Franco indirectly doomed civilization. Franco was known, and even praised, for her abilities to seamlessly blend science and natural folk magic. From the few news articles and stories that covered the origins of the apocalypse, Franco concocted a powder akin to what a bokor would produce while animating ALIE. There was no need for the tetrodotoxin used by botors to slowly kill their victims since ALIE was not alive in the first place. Simply a living AI and Bellamy had no clue what a living AI even was.

In short, Franco created an apathetic Doomsday Janet that was faulty in design.

Fucking Doomsday Janet.

ALIE released an amplified strand of her core magic base to the rest of the world. Spreading the same powder that animated her. A link forming between ALIE and those infected by the powder deemed her "followers." His friend Jasper being one of them. The magic mutated and bonded with the follower's DNA. Upon their death, the corpses of ALIE’s followers would reanimate, allowing for ALIE to seize control of them. Poor Monty had been the one to find this out: shortly after his mother died, Monty had to defend himself from a zombified Hannah Green. 

When the Death Wave hit, how many zombies would be walking the earth?

Bellamy had seen starving zombies on the news before, mindlessly wandering the earth now that their master was vanquished. Their skin turning ashen from lack of circulation. Each zombie moved differently depending on how long it took for them to reanimate. Those who were reanimated within hours moved more fluidly than those who had become reanimated after rigor mortis set in. He liked watching the videos of those animated after rigor mortis concluded: bodies sagging as they walked, arms swinging back and forth loosely, heads rolling listlessly. They had no control of their body and he found it hysterical to watch. But this was the first time he had seen one in person.

Their sleepy college town of Arkadia hosted an annual Halloween party in the town square. In the afternoon, children from the elementary school could play games, carve pumpkins and Trick-or-Treat safely inside of Town Hall. Once the sun set, the adults had their own party. He planned to stay at most an hour. Wanted to get slightly inebriated, stock up on chocolate and candy then go home to binge a bunch of Halloween movies.

The DJ dressed as a ghoul switched from some techno song to  _ Thriller _ . It was almost comical watching the drunk college kids bumrushing the makeshift dance floor. He tossed back his drink in enjoyment. Calling it now, the girl teetering in the six inch heels wiped out before the song's halfway mark. As Bellamy grabbed another beer from the cooler, he took notice of someone limping through the grass. Commitment to the part. The male let out a low moan as he inched closer to the party. That's when Bellamy noticed the missing finger. It let out another moan, arms extending out in front of it. It reached out for one of the partygoers but was still too far away.

"That's a-" Bellamy started but his voice became drowned out with people screaming 'zombie'. The college students shoved each other out of the way in their waste to run from the party. One unlucky girl was tripped by her date causing her to fall to the ground. The zombie turned its attention on her, arms reaching out for her. Gripping the neck of the bottle in his hand, Bellamy chucked it at the creature. When it struck the undead's temple, Bellamy became aware of three things: one, now that the dark wig fell off Bellamy noticed the girl happened to be Clarke Griffin; two, he no longer had a beer; and three, the zombie started after him instead.

Fuck Becca. Fuck ALIE. Fuck magic. Not like it ever did him any good.

"Fuck." He muttered, rushing down the hill. "Dumbass." His Jeep being one of the furthest in the parking lot. With everyone trying to drive off, he'd either be run over or be trapped in his parking spot for a while.

Out of breath, he made it to his car. A couple sat hiding beside the wheelbase of the vehicle, the male in an orange prison jumpsuit, the female dressed as Morticia Addams. The male looked up at him with a grin, "You the Uber?"

That's when the blonde curls of Clarke Griffin came sprinting through the parking lot, weaving her way through the crazed drivers. Her eyes angrily darting from vehicle to vehicle. Ah, right. The boyfriend left her. Tripped her even. What was his name again? Her eyes met his and he let out a sigh, "Get in before it makes it's way over here."

With a brief smile, she sped over to the passenger side. A pair of black 3D glasses with the lens popped out slid down her nose. The sleeve of her crisp white button-down stained with grass. Pulling open the driver's side door, Bellamy hopped into his car. This sounded like the start of a weird joke: Clark Kent, Morticia Addams, Wesley from  _ The Princess Bride _ , and a prisoner were all driving in a car.

Instead of trying to navigate through the mass of cars evacuating the parking lot, Bellamy drove up onto the sidewalk. Jeep racing across the front lawn of Town Hall. He swerved out onto the main road, horns wailing behind him. Traffic regulation didn't apply during a zombie apocalypse, didn't people know this? As Bellamy drove he saw several more zombies popping up trying to attack unsuspecting people walking on the sidewalk. Halloween was the perfect night for a zombie invasion. Everyone just assumed the zombies were Arkadians in costume.

Clarke turned around in her seat to face the prisoner, "So Murphy, where you heading to?"

"We were gonna head up to Raven tonight after the party but now seems like as good a time as any." Murphy's hand sliding across the seat to rest on his girlfriend's knee. "She's been trying to get this safe room up and running. Said we could hide in there once she properly calibrated everything."

He heard rumors that local genius Raven Reyes sat tucked away from civilization in the abandoned sub basement lab of Becca Franco. The scientist's home had been ransacked once word spread she inadvertently started the apocalypse. Any valuables looted, the curtains set on fire, the walls vandalized. Her lab on the other hand remained untouched to the panicked world. At least until Reyes forced her way in. Technology magic is rare. Becca you could say had some tech abilities but Raven, she was the only true technomancer Bellamy had ever come across. Possibly the only technomancer he’d ever come across. Her abilities guiding her to the secret subterrain laboratory. 

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Clarke asked, finger clenching the leather of her seat. "What if she can't get it calibrated."

Murphy shrugged in response, resting the back of his head against the top of the seat. "Way I see it, either we stay here and die or we travel to New York. At least there we have a chance."

"Strangely astute of you."

Bellamy watched as the other male smirked, "Contrary to what our guidance counselor believed, I can indeed make a career out of keeping myself alive." Emori jabbed him in the side, causing Murphy to jerk. "Keeping us alive. Through non-criminal means even." He amended.

Murphy leaned forward with his elbows on the middle console, reiterating every direction Google Maps supplied. They made it to the town limits unscathed before three zombies popped out. One landed on the window, one landed on the roof and the third disappeared from view. Bellamy forced both feet onto the brake pedal, the Jeep jerking to a stop. The zombie on the window and the zombie on the roof tumbling from the vehicle. Loud thumps echoing as they hit the ground. Bellamy quickly pressed down on the gas pedal, wheels screeching as they lurched forward. The right side of the vehicle jumping then the left, as they rode over the corpses. The third zombie remained unseen.

The shredded rubber of his front left tire shot up beside his window. Letting out a loud groan, Bellamy held the wheel firm. Hoping to prevent the car from veering off the road.

The zombie tore off his tire, and he gave his spare to O. They’d be walking from here on out.

Murphy opened the back window and chuckled a fireball at the zombie's head. "Dude! Not near the car!" Bellamy yelled. Did Murphy have a death wish?

Grumbling, Murphy pulled himself from the vehicle, Bellamy following shortly after. Muttering a brief spell in Tagalog, Bellamy raised his pointer and middle fingers. The curse hitting it directly where their heart would have been beating. Murphy's head shot around to look at him, "What was that?"

The closest thing to legal necromancy.

Clarke raced over to their side of the vehicle, eyes wide in surprise. "Since when can you cast?" Her voice awed. "I have never once seen you do anything relating to magic."

"I'm not all that great." Bellamy hurriedly said, hoping to get off the topic of his abilities.

Murphy scoffed and pointed to the now redead zombie, "That was the most accurate spell I have ever seen."

Ignoring Clarke's questioning gaze and Murphy wondering what a person needed to cast to lay out a zombie instantly, Bellamy began taking in his surroundings. He could take them to the 'safe house.' Really it was a dilapidated shack that was once on their great grandfather's land, before his son sold the property to pay off his gambling debts. The property went to the state, who turned it into a park. The shack for some reason fell through the cracks. Members of the Blake family becoming the only ones to know of its existence. He silently marched through the woods of the park, leading their trio to his family's secret hideout. 

When O was in elementary school, she loved having a secret hideout unparalleled by her classmates. Some had tree houses in their backyard, some had crawlspaces, Octavia had a whole eerie house to herself. It was there that Aurora let them practice their abilities safely. But if he took Clarke, Murphy, and Emori to the safe house, O could never return here.

Clarke asked him a few more questions before she relented. Did he feel bad ignoring her? Yes. Did he went to talk about his abilities? Never. It's not like they talked anymore anyway. Clarke was a good friend of Octavia's. She and Bellamy were simply friends through association. O and Clarke's friendship concluded in their English class, the pair screaming and wanting to rip the other's head off. After the two weeks of detention, they never saw each other again. Clarke and Bellamy simply ceased talking to one another after the incident. He still had no clue what the fight was about.

"There's a shack about a mile up." He muttered, begrudgingly. Who knew if more zombies lurked in the distance. "Warning you now, it looks like someplace you'd get murdered in and no one would ever find your body."

"Sounds like my kinda place." Emori said, flashing him a bright smile. "Lead us to our deaths."

* * *

Murphy let out a low whistle as they approached the shack, "Question: does the shack come with its owner murderer or do we have to supply that?"

The shack creaked as a light breeze rolled through; the walls shifting with the wind. Only one window pane, in the far right window on the second floor, remained intact. All others had shattered over the years and covered up with boards. The door warped, no longer fitting properly in the frame.

"I dig it." Emori strood forward towards the front door. Bellamy racing after her, asking her to stop.

"The wards on the door can kill you, wait!" He called after the girl. Emori froze, hand hovering over the doorknob. "Give me a second to deactivate the wards okay?" Slowly, he walked the perimeter of the shack reciting the incantation his mother taught him. Fingers rising and falling as he went.

"Why are there wards on a murder house?" Murphy asked, slowly walking forward. Eyes cautiously darting to the doorknob, "To keep the police out?"

"Yup." Bellamy responded, opening the door for the group. "Something along those lines."

Practicing blood magic was a felony in nearly every country throughout the world. His little sister just happened to be born a blood mage. Here Aurora allowed O to train her abilities as a precaution and only a precaution. Untrained magic, especially untrained blood magic, was dangerous. If the emotions of someone incapable of controlling their magical abilities flared, they ran the risk of putting themselves and those around them in danger. Blood magic was even worse. When an untrained blood mage lost control of their emotions, people died. No probabilities of injury, no possibility of people making it out alive like with other untrained witches and warlocks. Which made training a double edged sword. An untrained blood mage was catastrophe but a full-fledged blood mage was just as dangerous. And either way they ended up imprisoned.

He never liked to use his abilities. Nothing good came of magkukulams. He's studied every text he could get his hands on regarding the art of kulam and he has yet to find accounts of a benevolent caster. Kulam focused on hexes and curses. It was a form of dark magic. Some magkukulams, proficient in the art, were even able to perform magic akin to necromancy. He knew the spells in theory. Knew the voodoo-esque spells as well. His mother bought him a rag doll and string in a vain attempt to have him practice. He kept fearing something would go wrong and he'd hurt O or his mother.

Clarke and Emori walked about what remained of the living room/den. The room matted in layers of dust. Eyes taking in the marks seared into the walls from where a spell hit it. A moth eaten couch sat in the middle of the room. A scorch mark marring the upholstery. Murphy stood beside the bookcase liming the far wall, scanning over each title. "I have no clue what half these say, but I know that one," he started pointing to the third book in the third row, "is a Necronomicon reproduction."

O had gotten him that as a graduation present. She had recently found out magkukulams had abilities similar to necromancy and thought it was hysterical and had to buy it for him. He would have preferred another rag doll or a grimoire but no, O had to buy him a law of the dead book. Sisters sucked, highly not recommended. 

Emori and Clarke both turned their gazes to him so he did what any adult would do: sputter out a few random noises and leave the room. He stepped over the fourth step of the rickety staircase leading up to the small bedroom on the second floor. Another ward his mother set in place. It was designed to trap whomever stepped on it. A fail safe for if anyone who wasn’t a Blake disarmed the protection wards outside.

The bedroom stood just as he remembered. A full sized bed tucked against the right wall, a rumpled mess of thread-bare blankets tossed atop the too firm mattress. On the floor beside the box spring frame was a thin, lumpy twin mattress. His bed for the nights Aurora had them stay in the shack. Locked away from the rest of the world. Bellamy approached the small cubby built into the nook, searching for any clothes they may have left during their time. He pulled out random articles of clothing, tucking them under his arm. Hopefully Emori knew a spell that made clothes smell laundry fresh. Clarke was shit at any spells that didn’t involve healing to some caliber and Murphy looked to be a fire mage. Bellamy could curse the clothes to remain stale for all eternity but that sort of defeats the purpose.

When he returned back downstairs, Murphy made himself at home on the couch.The Necronomicon sat open in his lap, “This shit is interesting." Emori laid beside him, pretending to read along with him but she looked as if she wished to be anywhere else. Clarke stood behind the couch, hunching over Murphy’s shoulder to read along.

She told Murphy to lift the book higher, rereading one of the lines repeatedly. “Can you control the dead? Is that why you have this book?”

In theory he could control the dead. He knew the spells and he knew the potions but he lacked any skills required to successfully control the dead. He wasn’t a powerful enough magkukulam.

Emori’s head raised from her spot on the couch, “He did kill a zombie almost immediately.”

He really didn’t like where this was going.

* * *

Monty’s van pulled up in front of the shack about an hour later. Harper, donning a red wig, stuck her head out the passenger window shouting for them to get in. Bellamy had called Monty asking him for a lift to Becca’s laboratory and the opportunity for him, his girlfriend, and his best friend to hide in the safe room. The van painted blue and green, accented in orange to replicate the iconic Mystery Machine. He had no clue why Jasper and Monty felt the need to repaint the van a few months back, but he learned a while back to stop questioning what went on in their heads. The only person who understood Monty and Jasper were Monty and Jasper… and Harper.

Climbing into the back of the van, Bellamy noticed Jasper dressed in a green shirt and brown khakis. A stuff Scooby-Doo doll sat on the bench beside him. Nice Shaggy Rogers in the Mystery Machine. Monty dressed as Fred Jones and Harper as Daphne Blake. Really leaning in on the Scooby-Doo theme. Bellamy, and judging by the faces of Clarke, Murphy, and Emori, they knew better than to mention the lack of Velma Dinkley.

“No costumes?” Harper turned around from the passenger’s seat. Dried blood caked around her temple, “Where’s your Halloween spirit?”

Jasper reached for the phone attached to the van’s speakers. Idly shuffling through the music library until he came across the  _ Monster Mash _ . “So Raven’s found an escape from Zombieland?”

“Looks like it.” Clarke responded, leaning back in her seat. “Death Wave hasn’t even hit, yet here we are trying to survive.”

As they crossed state lines, flying north on the interstate, they passed a large billboard sign declaring a state of emergency. That northern states were requiring all parties to wear hazmat or radiation suits. Underneath, the billboard listed sites where you could obtain hazmat suits. Free hazmat suits available at any hospital or clinic while most drug stores or pharmacies had them available for a small fee. Or you could go to a Wal-Mart. Wal-Marts had everything.

They made a slight detour driving around the first city they came across. The first hospital they stopped at had two suits left. They drove around the streets, looking for any UrgentCare or any other hospital they could find. It took several hours before they amassed seven hazmat suits. Space in the back of the van became crowded, everyone taking up more room now that they were all trapped inside their own little bubbles. 

Bellamy offered to drive upon reaching Baltimore. Monty had been behind the wheel for just shy of three hours and it was well past one in the morning. Clarke offered to switch seats with Harper. Three hours in and approximately another three hours to go before they reached the island Becca lived on. Raven messaged them about a ferry terminal that sporadically ran trips between the mainland and the island. Upon the reveal of Becca as the woman who doomed mankind, the ferry stopped running but Raven said a ferrymen could be persuaded. Once they reached the island it was an hour on foot.

Four hours, give or take however long it took to persuade a ferrymen to drop them off, and they’d been hidden in a safe room to ride out the Death Wave. At least O could relax. The founder of her college was a member for a doomsday cult, having built a bunker underneath the main building of the campus. It could hold the students and faculty but only the students and faculty. He had to force her to stay on campus, her girlfriend Niylah dragging her into the bunker. So here’s to the crazy guy with a lot of money who opened the college O decided to attend. Thanks.

They made it to the ferry without any incidents. A few zombie sightings along the way, and Bellamy nearly running a man over as he sprinted across the street to evade being caught, but nothing colossal. The streets leading to the terminal clear of other drivers. It was eerie. The apocalypse was on them and yet they were fine. Didn't some band have a song about that? 

All they had to do was get the ferryman to bring them to the island of the woman who doomed civilization. No problems there.

Sliding glass door slowly opened to reveal a barren terminal. Metal grates pulled down over the vendor stalls. A light brushing of dust settled over the seats in the atrium. The overhead board detailing arrivals and departures flashed, indicating the boat to Block Island was boarding. Large glass windows allowed passengers to view out onto the water, out to where their awaiting boat would be. Not a ferry in sight. A sliding door leading to one of the loading docks opened as a man in a hazmat suit stalked through. A gold medallion hung around his neck; looked almost like a security badge. "Most people are in their homes." Dress shoes squeaking against the linoleum. "Haven't you seen the news. The end is nigh."

"We need a lift to Becca Franco's Island." Monty hurriedly said, "Please."

The plastic window of the hazmat's helmet distorted the male's face under the fluorescent lights. A grimace barely made out, "We don't make trips out there anymore. Not since ALIE."

The flashing on the overhead board stopped

The word 'boarding' switching to read 'departed'. 

"Look we," Emori started, pushing her way to the front, "need your help. We're trying to reach our friend Raven who is on that island."

The male opened his mouth to interrupt her, "I told you, we don't make-"

But Emori trudged on, "She was there trying to prevent the apocalypse. Brilliant mind that girl has. If anyone were to stop the end of the world, it's Raven. She hasn't been able to leave the island and we want to be there with her when-"

"When the Death Wave hits." The man supplied sorrowly. Emori nodded solemnly. Weary eyes fazed out on the water.

She reached out a gloved hand, resting it on the male's forearm. "Please. We need your help."

Immediately, the male turned around and began walking back towards the loading dock doors. "We will depart from Dock B, if you have a car please follow the signs leading around the right side of the terminal and park on the middle level for easiest access on and off the ship." The doors shot behind him, cutting off anything else he may have said.

Murphy raised his hand for Emori to high-five. A smug smirk on both their lips. "Did you just persuade him into doing what you wanted?" Harper asked incredulously. "I've only ever seen it on television."

"I am both the best and the worst theft you will ever meet. I get what I want but never actually steal anything." Emori joked, following after the ferryman.

* * *

They had no incidents getting to the ferry or getting to the island, but the eerie calmness they found themselves in came to an abrupt halt after driving off the boat. It was approximately a twenty minute drive from the shoreline to the laboratory. The pack of zombies struck around the halfway mark. Clarke shifted forward in her seat, eyes wide in fear. “Bellamy.” she whispered. Her hands shook as she fumbled with her seatbelt, checking and rechecking that it remained in place. The five zombies looked to be moving faster than any of the other they’d come across. Must be been reanimated almost immediately. Their bodies showed no resistance to their movements. No leg dragging behind them, no arms hanging limp.

“Not again.” Bellamy groaned, cutting the wheel to the left. The van jerked quickly, jolting the others in the back out of their seats. 

“What the hell.” Murphy yelled, his head popping up from below the bench, “Dude, do you know how- oh.”

Oh was right. Fucking zombies. “I’m really starting to hate this road trip.” Bellamy grumbled. 

Clarke leaned forward, hands gripping tightly at the steering wheel, “Cast that spell again.” 

Jasper and Monty made comments about how Bellamy was born without magic abilities but he ignored them. Cranking down the window - Monty, what car still has a window crank?! - Bellamy’s eyes darted about in the dark. Parts of the land illuminated from the moonlight, basking the zombies in shadow. "We're gonna die." Bellamy muttered, trying in vain to find the zombies in the darkness.

"Someone's a happy camper." Clarke chided, her hands gripping the door handle. "Optimistic as always."

Bellamy shot her a glare, "We're gonna die." He repeated, feigning joy in his voice. He pulled the gloves from his hands, dropping them into the cupholders. His whole body jolted, causing him to sit up straight. Electricity pulsing under his fingertips. Unidentifible magic laced in the air around him.

"Much better." Clarke said, tossing open her door.

Five zombies and seven humans, they could do this. Murphy jumped from the back of the van, hands alight with flame. The gloves of his hazmat suit missing. For a moment, Murphy looked shell-shocked, his body shifting uncomfortably. But when Emori stormed out with her wand drawn, Murphy was pulled from his daze. Harper raised her fists ready for a fight. She may not possess magic but she sure as hell had a great right hook. Monty and Jasper, well he was kind of scared to know what the pair were up to. Clarke charged straight for one of the zombies, lack of offensive spells be damned. Fucking hell. 

He ran after the blonde, casting a hex towards the zombie. Then another. Both landed a strike on the creature. It wailed in pain as it crumbled to the ground. Clarke spun on her heel, a look of wonderment on her face. "You can stop this."

Literally all he could do was kill a zombie. It would take him a while to end the present apocalypse, having to kill each zombie individually. Especially if the followers of ALIE kept dying out on him. "Clarke, I-"

"Try to control one." She guided, racing over towards Murphy who was trying to burn the zombie. Emori raced about lobbing curse after curse at it. They needed to hit the brain. Only way for them to kill it. Only those who practice voodoo or a similar craft can hit zombies anywhere on the body and get the desired effect of 'killing' it.

He really hated his dad in that moment. Never met him but Bellamy knew he sucked. Who wanted to be able to instsntly re-kill the undead anyway?

Clarke darted in front of him just before he could hurl a curse at the creature. He wanted to yell about the danger she put herself in. She could have gotten herself killed! Clarke's blue eyes narrowed in determination, "Control it."

There were some lines people didn't cross, and controlling the undead was one of them. He would never go down that path. At least not again. Instead, he reached around her. Hitting the back of the creature's head. 

In front of him, he watched as another zombie fell to the floor. A tire wrench sticking out from the back of the creature's neck. Harper stood behind, hands resting on her knees as she bent over trying to catch her breath. Brain stem, nice. The girl raised the back of her hand to wipe the sweat from her forehead but smacked against the plastic of the hazmat's helmet. 

He heard Clarke yell his name, her voice laced with fear but he reacted too slowly. A pair of arms wrapped around his torso. The sleeves of the person's sweatshirt frayed. Fuck. He really didn't want to do this. Bellamy could fire a shot behind him if he could lessen the hold the creature had on him. Firing now could be dangerous, he might hit one of the others as opposed to the zombie. Shoving his weight into the arms of the zombie Bellamy hoped he'd free himself.

From his peripherals, he could see Monty and Jasper approaching on either side of the zombie. Their hands raised as if to perform their self five. A blue beam of magic shot out from Monty's hand into Jasper's awaiting one, straight through the zombie's skull. The beam pulsing back and forth. Never had Bellamy witnessed the magic of two casters flow so seamlessly together. Nor had he seen wandless magic performed with that much power by a caster wearing gloves. It was almost as if neither had a barrier between their palms and the air around them. He had heard tales of magic intensifying between two people with an infallible bond. Never witnessed it before. 

Clarke raced over to him after concluding Harper didn't need healing, girl just needed rest. Clarke's blue eyes wide with worry. She tossed her gloves to the ground, cold hands gripping at the material of his hazmat suit. A large tear ran from mid-bicep to elbow. He heard Murphy in the background say something about the fifth zombie disappearing but all he could focus on where the hushed curses Clarke muttered as her fingers prodded through the tear. Most relating to him being an idiot and that she would personally be the one to kill him if he transformed. Amidst everything that happened, the zombie must have gripped onto the material when trying to prevent Bellamy from escaping. Weird, he hadn't felt the zombie scratch him.

Clarke let out a short breath of relief. Her right hand coming up to rest over the tear. Warmth spreading over the exposed skin. A calming spell relaxing his muscles. "Just tore your suit."

As the group approached the van, a low groan came from the below the vehicle. There was the last zombie. Clarke's small hands wrapped around his forearm. "Please, try to control it."

An arm reached out from below the van, "We may only have one chance at ending this."

The second arm scraping against the dirt.

"I can't control the dead."

The zombie's head sprung free from under the van. Its stomach dragged along the ground as it clawed its way towards them. Nails digging into the dirt.

Ezra called out for him to control it, her voice raising in fear. Shortly, everyone in their group started pleading for him to control the creature. Voices blending together in a cacophony of demands.

His hands shook nervously. He couldn't control the dead. They were asking too much of him. He wasn't strong enough in the dark arts to perform that spell. Nor did he wish to be strong enough in the dark arts to be able to perform that spell. "I can't control zombies, please stop," his whisper lost in the mess of sounds.

He couldn't-

"Stop!" His voice piercing into the night.

Immediately, the zombie froze where it lay. Its jaw hanging limp, dislocated from the socket. Round glassy eyes turning to look up at him. Eyes that looked to be almost awaiting his next word.

"Dude." Jasper said in awe, "Duuude."

It hadn't worked the last time. He hadn't been able to control it… he didn't possess the abilities to control the undead. Immediately, Bellamy shot a curse at the zombie. It remained motionless as it screamed.

"Fuck." 

Visions of pale, ashen arms clawing across the wooden floor flashed before him. A mop of dark black hair shielded its face. Gnarled fingers reaching out for Octavia's throat. He had followed every step to the letter: properly measured out the ingredients for his potion; made sure the corpse had yet to putrefy; recited the incantation perfectly. Yet none of his spells worked. Nothing allowed him dominion over the undead. To save Octavia from harm, he had to banish the zombie back into the earth. He had to kill Aurora Blake. And up until three maybe four hours ago, he hadn’t used his powers in seven years. Not since that horrible night. In Aurora’s final week, O begged him and begged him to not lose their mother. He knew he shouldn’t have but listening to his kid sister wailing long into the night for days on end broke him. The day she demanded he raise Aurora Blake from the dead, he should have said no.

Why had it worked now? He’d been out of practice for so long.

He twisted to look at the group, most staring agog at the creature while Clarke stood tall. A smug smirk tugging at her lips. He really didn't like where this was going. Before he could chide Clarke, the smirk fell from Clarke's face. Her lips pursing in question. Her body clenching in on itself.

"You good?" Bellamy whispered placing one hand on the small of her back and one on her shoulder in support. What she okay?

She jerked away from his touch, arms raising up in front of her. "I'm fine. Hon-honestly. We should," her voice wavering, "we should continue towards the lab. We're almost there."

"I agree!" Murphy yelped, rushing towards the back of the van. "No more time to waste."

* * *

Clarke sat perched on the edge of the van’s seat. Her back looked uncomfortably straight. Her eyes wide in shock. She shifted around slightly, adjusting her position on the edge of the seat but never moving to rest against the chair’s back. He watched her for a moment more before returning his gaze to the thin road ahead of them. Nerves, he told himself, the world would end in a couple days. She was simply nervous. His eyes darted back to Clarke when he heard her take in a sharp breath. She swallowed thickly, shifting in her seat once more. It was then that Bellamy noticed her hands pressed firm in her lap. Her thighs rubbing against each other more than likely not obtaining the relief she sought covered in the material of the hazmat suit. Was she? She pressed her hands firmer into her lap, eyes fixed on the road in front of them.

“Stop looking at me.” her voice breathy.

He had a million questions he could have asked, but the only thing he got out was, “You good?” She nodded briefly, shoulders tense.

In the rearview mirror, he watched Murphy shifting. One leg came up to rest over the other. He shook his head before quickly reversing which leg rested on top. His elbow balanced on his thigh, chin cradled in his palm. Body arching into itself. Emori gave him a wide look, eyes roving over her boyfriend. Whatever it was she found caused her to level Murphy with a glare, “Dude, really?”

“You do not get to judge me right now.” What?

The heel of Clarke’s palm pressed downwards against her lap. “Bellamy, are you good?”

He was fine.

Clarke nodded, eyes roaming out the window. “Murphy, are you-”

“Fine!”

What the fuck?

He hadn’t fully stopped the van before the back door was tossed open and Murphy nearly ran up the pass to the laboratory's door. He leaned awkwardly against the door frame, crossing his right leg over his left. Arm draped at an awkward angle across his crotch. He pounded his fist loudly against the metal door. Voice cracking as he yelled for Raven to unlock the door.

“Someone’s excited.” Emori not hiding the glib of her tone.

A warmth spread through Bellamy. He could feel his cheeks flushing at the change. Electricty returning to his fingertips, slowly pulsing under the skin. Had the air smelled this sweet when the zombies attacked? It was dizzying almost. Could someone become intoxicated by the air? He reached a hand up to his head, hitting the plastic visor of the helmet instead. Right that was there. His shoulders hunched forward as some spell attached itself to him.

"It's finally hitting, huh?" Had Clarke's voice always been that breathy? He turned to face her. In the faint light, the blue of her eyes had become darker.

Agonizingly slow, the door to the laboratory unlocked allowing them entrance into the airlock. Clarke's gaze dropped downwards, "You guys coming?" Murphy called out. Hands now blatantly covering his crotch. "Some of us need to get inside."

"Inside someone else." Emori lowered her pitch in jest, raising a hand for him to slap but Murphy left her hanging. "Way to break the code."

Stiffly, Bellamy entered the airlock. Arousal hitting him hard. Eyes focusing on the way the lock spun as the door slammed shut. Focusing on the title floor. Anything to push down his arousal. He had been hit with a love spell. More specifically a lust spell that reached its full effect. The longer they stood in the airlock, the more nervous he felt that someone would notice what was happening to him. Cheeks flushing both in embarrassment and arousal.

He really hated magic sometimes. 

The moment the second set of doors opened, Murphy gripped Emori's hand and dashed off. Offering a poor excuse as to why they would be departing for a while. Monty, Jasper, and Harper looked on in confusion. Quietly questioning what was wrong with Murphy. They turned towards Bellamy and Clarke, silently asking what they wanted to do but instead Clarke tugged at the collar of his hazmat suit, dragging him to one of the rooms on the second floor of the lab. She as well tossing a poor excuse for why they shouldn't wait up. Small, gloved hands pushing at his chest before the door locked shut. Shoving him back against the door. "What kind of magic is this?" She demanded, separating her helmet from her suit. Haphazardly, she tossed it into the corner of the room. "I've never been hit with it before."

He had yet to come across a lust spell in person. Read about a few of them during his studies, but never witnessed its effects. Never felt its effects. His mind foggy over the details. Her fingers prodded at the junction where his helmet locked into the suit, popping it free. "I think I know how to fix it." He knew a countercurse for a similar spell. All he had to do was-

Her lips were far more intriguing. Soft against his slightly chapped ones. Nimble fingers toyed at the collar of his suit trying to remove the offending material. "Off Bellamy." She demanded between kisses, "Take it off." 

His hands slid down her side to gently push her back a step. When he brushed against the side of her chest, Clarke let out a low cry. Her head dropping to hide against his neck, "Bell." She whispered.

There's nothing alluring about stepping out of hazmat suits. It's awkward and two-man job. The pair found themselves laughing at the situations. Hands pawing at the material, tugging roughly to free the other. The clothes they wore under the hazmat suits falling into a pile on the floor.

His thumbs rub soft circles into her hipbones as he walks her back towards the examination table. His hands trailing across her skin to the curve of her ass. Legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts her to sit on the table. Her hands slid up his waist coming to a stop just over his heart. Ankles pushed into the small of his back, pushing him flush against her.

He knew he should stop, to put an end to whatever was building between them. They weren't in their right minds. They were under some lust spell.

The fog began to settle once more in his mind as Clarke rolled her hips forward. What had he been thinking again?

A single finger slipped inside of her. Letting out a soft whine, Clarke rolled her hips against his palm. She leaned forward, lips dragging down his jaw. Pressing lightly behind his ear. Teasing the lobe between her teeth. He slid a second finger in easily, curling the pair inciting a heedy moan from Clarke. Thumb rubbing small, gentle circles against her clit.

"Bellamy." She whined, her hands pushed against his chest. "I love your hands, they've frustrated me for a long time, but right now I'm way passed frustrated."

"And that means?" He chuckled. 

"You know what it means." She grumbled. Her fingernails grazed feather-light down his chest. Hands delicately wrapping around him tugging twice. He curled his fingers inside her once more, coaxing a whimper from her lips.

Clarke whined as he removed his fingers. She whispered please over and over, punctuating each repetition with a tug. Trying to pull him closer to her center. Instead, he teased his fingers against her hips once more. Leisurely drawing circles into the skin. Clarke let out a shirt whine, "Bellamy." Her thumb rubbing against the head. "You suck."

Letting out a low chuckle, he tugged her closer to the edge of the table. Brushing against her folds. " swear I will murder you Bellamy."

He pressed forward, entering her slowly. Clarke's ankles pressing against him, pulling him closer to her until their chests were pressed together. One of her hands came up to grip onto his shoulder, the other latching onto the edge of the table. He inched further inside of her until he bottomed out. Her head tossing back, mouth open in a silent moan. He found an easy rhythm, thrusting up into her. 

Clarke hooked her fingers under his chin. "The first time we have sex," she said, "is under a fucking spell during a zombie apocalpyse." 

If his mind hadn't been so clouded he would have dwelled more on the mentioning of the 'first time' and the implication that this could happen again in the future. But instead he made a silly joke about how it was literally fucking magic. Clsrke let out a loud snort, hand coming up to push at his shoulder. "That was a horrible joke."

* * *

"Now that's everyone's all fucked out, can we proceed with saving the world?" The edges of Raven's lips curling up in a teasing smirk. 

They had less than twenty-four hours until the end of the world. At least according to Raven's calculations. Twenty-four hours until the Death Wave killed any of those who could not find shelter. Twenty-four hours until the world was born anew, populated by zombies. Raven tirelessly worked to calibrate the safe room to survive the end the apocalypse but ultimately the room was a dead end. Literally. The mechanisms in place for securing the airlock destroyed during ALIE's reign. If technomancer Raven couldn't coax the pieces inti calibrating, there was no hope for the safe room functioning properly. They were going to die on the island of a voodoo scientist. Fun. 

They tossed about an array of alternatives to survive both the Death Wave and the latter zombie apocalypse, most stemming from a movie or a tv show. Monty offering to find a safe island, secure from the rest of the population for zombies to dwell peacefully after Bellamy questioned if they could swim. He hadn't seen a swimming zombie yet. But then again, he never experienced an apocalypse either. The topic of Bellamy's newfound abilities to control the dead coming up multiple times. 

Jasper dropped down onto one of the chairs in the lab, "Unless we can stop the Death Wave Bellamy's useless."

"Thanks Jas."

"No prob fam." Sure no one wants to be informed they're useless but Jasper had a point. Surviving the Wave was their top priority. And unless they could find a bunker in a few hours, they were dead. Well all of them except Raven and Jasper, cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. 

A see-through board sat in the backroom. Small flecks spattered across the surface. He walked across the room, eyes trying to find a pattern. As he neared he realized they were star charts, depicting constellations he had never heard of. Nothing from this galaxy. Larger flecks representing planets in this unknown system.

"Prior to ALIE, Becca was looking into deep space voyages. From what I saw in her files, she designed a few ships that could travel lightyears away." Raven said absentmindedly, fingers tracing over a moon labeled Alpha. Had she completed the designs? Raven's fingers stilled. "Space." She whispered.

Quickly the brunette turned around and ran as fast as her leg would allow to the computer in the center of the lab. Applications shifted about the screen rapidly, opening and closing. She typed fast lines of code into one screen. Raven hit a button loudly, the sound echoing throughout the lab. Large metal doors opening to reveal a rocket. "I read the schematics. It's near functional. Let me work my magic and we could ride out the apocalypse in space."

**Author's Note:**

> Someone please come murder me, this was so difficult omg. I've never written smut before so I'm so sorry for whatever that is.
> 
> I got my friends to watch Zombieland with me on my birthday. I was watching The Evil Dead the night I started writing this and the other night I watched Shaun of the Dead. I love the show iZombie, even if I hated most of Liv's arc in season 4 and I had mixed feelings about the series finale. So I had to do a zombie apocalypse because how else we gon die?
> 
> (Also, I didn't cry during that scene in the finale with Ravi and Major, you have no proof.)
> 
> I tried to come up with a reason why Octavia's life would be illegal in a modern magical setting and thus the blood mage (Blodreina) was born. Also in this Becca died.
> 
> Happy halloween folks


End file.
